Eternally Yours,
by beemanic
Summary: She wasn't supposed to find the music box. He wasn't supposed to die. But things don't always go according to plan. When Miku fixes the broken antique, her room at the orphanage gets a new "occupant". So, what was that rumor about the ghost again? DeiXOC
1. I, The Talentless Splotch

**Author's Note! **Geez, I should really stop thinking of new stories. I already have three others that need updating! But, this idea was just so irrisitable to write! I couldn't help it, so here it is! I really hope that the story is as appealing to you as it was to me! (PSST! I actually like how this one came out so far!) Anyway, the story is an AU and takes place in modern times, despite the first part under here (that's just the prologue). Enjoy!

**Pairings! **The main pairing is Deidara X OC. The side pairings are Sasori X OC and Deidara X Sakura (This turns one-sided later on).

**Disclaimer! **I, Kaz, do not own the Naruto universe or any of it's characters in any form. If I did, Deidara would have beat Sasuke's ass to tiny, insignificant, emo little shreds. So there.

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Before We Begin...

He was never one to plan things out. Never was, and never will be. Maybe that was why misfortune chose to fall on the blonde as he ran through the dark streets on his hometown.

The shadows flickered as he passed them, as if they were themselves trying to reach out and take him in their grasp. It was definitely an ominous sign, but the blonde teen paid no heed as he raced through the streets at night. He was distracted by the memories of this afternoon, and thoughts of what was to come in the future. The darling face of his sweet Sakura floated around his mind as well, causing him further distraction.

A grin spread on his lips as the tips of his fingers brushed the wrapped package in his pocket. It was to be her present, a token of his affection. And he could not wait to give it to her on the night of their escape; which was this very night.

Even in the dim moonlight, his cerulean eyes - or rather, eye, as his bangs covered the other eye - shone with delight and anticipation. He would take her away tonight, and they could finally be together without any interference. With this thought, a slight frown appeared on his face. Because he was now reminded of his family, mainly his father. If only the blonde could put his passion for his sweet flower into words, then he knew his father would understand why they _had_ to be together.

But no, why would Deidara get anything _he_ wanted? His frown deepened as he arrived at his family's estate. It was massive, and reeked of his family's inflated-to-bursting-point ego. Of course. His situation was rather ironic, after all. He was the son of an overly-wealthy merchant, and yet he could never get what he wanted for himself. It had to be his father's way. Always and a day.

There lay the reason why he couldn't have her. Right there in bold print. Just because she wasn't as rich as them, or as proper. Not like those kinds of things mattered to the blonde, anyway. What good did his wads of cash do him, if they never got him anything he wanted? But at least his mother understood, at least she cared.

He smirked, remembering hoe his mother had arranged for all of this. How he had gone to her, fuming with rage at his father's snobbish attitude. And how she had consoled him, agreed to make arrangements. So there. In the highly polished face of the Iwato family. In all their snooty little faces!

But then, his grin suddenly faltered as he crept unto the sprawling porch. It was deathly quiet; the only sound was the wind whistling through the trees surrounding the estate. A shiver went up his spine now, chilling him. He was finally focused, allowing his intuition to scream at him.

_Something was very, very wrong..._

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**Chapter 1: "I, The Talent-less Splotch"**

I was never one to be pitied. Nor was I a fool.

I was well aware of what had happened when it happened. I didn't need the sickly-sweet smelling women with their bright and cheery clothes telling me what had happened and why. I didn't want them telling me how sorry they were. They didn't even know me!

My grades were always pretty high, and I always was considered one of the brighter students. So I was perfectly able to reason what had happened. And - surprise, surprise - I was even able to figure out _why_ everything had happened, too. I should get an award (note the sarcasm).

It was all simple. My parents had gone to another fancy dinner party. They had each had a glass too many of whatever "fine" alcoholic beverages were being served. They decided to drive themselves home - in a fancy sports car, no less - and as a result, smashed into a telephone pole not two miles on their journey home. Cause and effect.

As a result, I found myself on a first-class leather seat to London, headed towards the orphanage my parents had arranged for me to live out my childhood in case anything ever happened. What was it again? Some kind of high class orphanage for _gifted _students. Not like I have any talents. At all.

In fact, I'm perfectly aware of the fact that my parents had dished out the extra hundred thousand dollars or so to get me a spot at the Murasaki House for the Gifted. I knew my IQ was never high enough, or ever will be, to get there myself. I can't dance and I can't sing. Gymnastics would only give me a few broken bones, and sports? Hah, I'd end up on a stretcher before the game even started. So I, Hatsumi Miku - that's last name, first name - am a talent-less splotch on the fine painting of success.

And that is where my day begins; on the soft leather seat of a British limo and on the road to my new "home". Where I would, conceivably, live out the rest of my happy childhood.

Whoopee.

**END CHAPTER 1**

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**"Kaz"**

Wow, looking back, this is the shortest chapter I've ever written. Sorry! But I can promise that the next one will be much, much longer. Anyway, moving along to other things.

Is that Deidara and Sakura? -GHASP- Hellz no! xD Could I have really been that evil? Only time will tell...

Ah yes, I found a really nice picture of what I wanted Miku to look like. So, if you wanna see it, there is a link conviniently located on my homepage!

Now, questions about the title? It actually has a meaning! But you'll have to wait till the last chapter to see it. Muahaha. Oh yeah, I've actually thought out the last chapter already. So that should give me inspiration to write faster. More evil laughter! MUAHAHA!

Anyway, the rest of Deidara's life story will have to wait till next chapter! AWAY!!

...Oh, reviews are always much-loved by the way. xD


	2. His Room? Lucky Me

**AUTHOR'S NOTE! **FFFFFFFF. I should be shot (Okay, exaggeration. -shifty eyes-). Ah, yes well I really am writing So Scream Like You Mean It. I SWEAR I AM. But, I've been plagued with flu-like symptoms for the past three days, and my mind seems to be wandering form anwhere but there. Yep. So I decided to write up another chapter of this! (Say thank you, Nii-san. xD) Anyway, I also found a few other versions of this story lying around. I really liked one of them, originally titled 'MINDFREAK'. Haha, yes after Criss Angel. Anyway, I'm seriously thinking of finishing it up and posting it up as another Dei-Ghostie story. Because I like writing Deidara as a ghost. Plus, by chapter three, he's already in the story. While with this one, it'll take a little while longer. Sadly.

Anyway. This author's note is much too long. -nervous laugh- Well, read on and do enjoy the story!

**PAIRINGS! **Main pairing is Dei X OC, side pairings include Sasori X OC and one-sided DeiSaku. Muahaha.

**DISCALIMER! **Anything that isn't this plot line, Hatsune Miku, or Margo Fay I do not own. Yep (try saying that ten times fast xD).

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**Chapter 2: "His Room? Lucky Me." **

I kept my nose pressed again the cool tinted glass of the limousine. Okay, so I admit it was childish, but I didn't care at all. You trying being all nice and sweet while you're being driven to some stuffy old mansion where you'll be living out the rest of your childhood. I'll be there for three more years, thank you very much.

I don't think the driver cared for me at all. He kept the little inner window shut tight, as the air conditioner kept the car's interior at a frosty temperature. Not that I minded _that_ part of the car ride. Not at all. In fact, it was one of the best parts really. I remember that one of my mother's servants always said that I could live in an industrial refrigerator and be perfectly at ease.

So I sat in a dry silence, fixedly looking outside the window. The driver didn't speak to me, and I was only too glad to return the favor. My day is going great, how about yours?

Gee whiz, I just can't _wait_ to see my new home! Insert bored sigh here, please.

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The first thing I heard was the crunch of gravel as the tires ran over them. Then the car began to tremble as the road suddenly became bumpy. Thus, I was jostled awake by the shaky movement of the car. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, and smudging my heavy black eyeliner (please insert stately cough here) in the process, I groggily stretched out on the soft seats and yawned.

Beside me, the car door was suddenly opened with a loud click, and I nearly toppled out along with it, no thanks to my sleepy stupor. The driver nodded at me stiffly, and held out a gloved hand. Ignoring it, I stalked past him, and smoothed down the fabric of my dress.

Not that I usually wore dresses (not at all, actually), but this was a quote-un-quote 'special occasion'. And since most shallow people out there based everything on first impressions, I decided to make myself decent looking. Don't get me wrong, I'm not one of those people who'll be all 'Ewh~! Dresses are girly and icky~!' The dress I wore was one that I ordered a while ago, for my grandmother's funeral (Irony, eh?). It matched my eyes, as it was made from a deep, sapphire color. I suppose one could say it was a gothic-type dress, and I wore a large, matching sun hat to block off the sun.

However, as I stepped out of the inky black car, I immediately realized that wearing the hat was a total waste. There was no sun to speak of, it smelled like rain, and the sky was of a cloudy, gray color. Oh yes, absolutely dismal.

Sighing, I played with the hem of the satin, black gloves I wore and waited for the driver to bring my bags to the door. When he did so, I followed him - nearly tripping on the gravel front. I guess my boots didn't do much to help in that department, as much as I loved them.

He rang the bell twice, and I could hear the low clang it made from the outside. Instantly, I was reminded of an abandoned bell-tower, and it added to the mansion's gloomy feel. In all honestly, I did like to look at pictures of magnificent castles - like the ones they had in Medieval Times - and I imagined this place to be as proud-looking as those. Such would fit my tastes.

But no. This was a mansion indeed, but the damp stone and ivy tendrils crawling up everywhere made it look depressing. The windows weren't dirty, but they seemed to small for the estate, and the vegetation looked like the ones they had at cemeteries and haunted houses. I almost laughed at it all - the sheer irony that an orphanage would look like this. But before I could continue with my thoughts (morbid as they may have been), the large, oaken doors creaked open and a rather portly woman greeted me with a warm smile.

Remembering that I needed to make a good impression, I stretched my lips, and hoped it would pass enough for her to be pleased. She didn't seem to mind.

"Hello there! You must be Miku, correct?" her voice was a loud one, and very intimidating. I shrunk back a bit on instinct and nodded.

"Good, good. We here are very proud to have such an esteemed girl to come and join our little family. I hope you will feel welcome," she spoke slowly, and enunciated her words (along with a slight British accent). I blinked up at her.

"I know how to speak English. My parents sent me to an English boarding school every year, so the language is familiar," I spoke blandly. The woman's smile never faltered.

"Such a smart girl! To be fluent in both Japanese and English. Come along then. Oh! And let me get your bag for you."

She went to reach for the black, satin satchel that I had tied around my wrist. Immediately, I snatched my hand back away from her.

"I'm capable of carrying my own bag as well." Once more, her smile never faltered, and I found myself beginning to dislike this woman very, very much.

"Very well then. On with the tour or the house..."

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Luckily for me, the house wasn't as dismal on the inside. The halls were painted in warm colors, and wherever there was carpeting, it was plush and very soft to step on. The wooden floors were highly polished, and the mansion itself was kept very snug on the inside. I found it obvious that it must have been remodeled at one point in time; probably very recently.

The tour wasn't _really_ a tour. It was more of the woman going on and on about the actual house, while just pushing me along a few of the bigger rooms.

I had learned that the mansion was indeed remodeled, and boasted over one hundred bedrooms. The basement had been converted into a massive kitchen, and there was a dining hall. I was cheered by the prospect of not having set breakfast/lunch/dinner times. Some of the bigger rooms included the dining hall, a ballroom, a music room, a library, and even an indoor greenhouse.

Despite my best efforts, I began to find the mansion intriguing and delightful. Always a fan of dishes and fine china, I was astounded at the vast collection of crystal, silver, and other fine dining ware that was displayed in the dining hall. The ballroom was magnificent, with a massive, crystalline chandelier that sparkled with even the faintest of light. In the music room, I escaped the woman long enough to wander the many, many instruments that lay there - and pluck a sting here and there as well. The library - I knew - would soon become my favorite - with thousands of book lining the many bookshelves (some reaching from the floor to the ceiling).

There were also what she called 'hobby rooms', but I had not gotten a chance to see them yet. With a house of so many gifted children, there were rooms to fit each type of need and desire. Such as the art room, the sewing room, a computer room (even though I was told my room would have a personal desktop for my use), a room full of games, a room full of mirrors, and even a room filled with dolls.

There were six floors, the top three for the bedrooms, and the bottom threes for domestics and classrooms. I was also delighted to find that there were classes on only three days - and homework wasn't necessarily a great need. But I supposed a house of super-smart children wouldn't need homework, now would they?

However, as we walked past the millionth hallway of the day (my bags had already been dropped off at my future room, which I had not yet seen), I couldn't help but notice one thing.

"Where are the rest of the children?" I spoke, stopping by a large window. The woman (I _think _she said her name was Ms. Tillie. Something as unorthodox as that...) stopped as well, turning to look at me.

"Oh, on nice days such as these, we take them out to the shore, or some other nice place like that," her emerald eyes scrunched up in a smile. I blinked twice, surprised. Did she just say this was a _nice day_? The house seemed depressing once more, suddenly.

However, before I could voice my opinion, a strange sight was to be seen. A pale little figure, not much taller than I, walked right past us. I raised a brow at the sight.

"Margo! Margo, there you are! Come here and meet Miku!"

Flinching at the loud boom that the woman had spoken in, I watched as the girl turned on one heel, wobbled slightly, and sauntered towards us. She stood in front of me, a bored expression plastered on her face.

"You called?" she spoke in a slight French accent, and looked at me - sizing me up. I did the same.

She was taller than me, but I was skinnier. Her hair was a much, much darker black than mine was, and around the same style. But whereas my hair was short and cut in choppy layers, hers was smooth, and cut neatly. Her eyes were piercing, and had a bright jade hue. Mine were dull, and a deep sapphire. She had slightly tanned skin, and her cheeks were dotted by light freckles.

I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow again when I caught her choice of clothing. Only a baggy, plain white shirt and black slacks? And she was barefoot too!

"I'm Margo. Margo Fay," she spoke once more in that slight French accent. I held out a gloved hand, and she took it.

"Hatsune Miku. Nice to meet you."

"Yes, I'm sure you two will be the best of friends. Margo, be a dear and finish up for me, will you?"

Before the girl could protest (which, by the looks of it, she wanted to do), a small stack of papers and a manila envelope was thrust into her hands. The woman walked away briskly, patting me on the head as she did so.

Scowling, I ran a hand through my hair, and looked at Margo.

"So..."

"Yep. You're the new girl, eh?" Margo smirked. I nodded, fingering the hem of my satchel. Not really a fan of small talk, I asked the obvious question.

"My room?" I asked, shifting my gaze to the manila folder. She nodded, and managed to produce a brass key from the folder. She brought the key to her face, and looked at the chain.

"Looks like you 'ave room..." her expression changed to one of amusement, "Oho! I see, now."

She began to walk down the hall, laughing. I followed, annoyed at her attitude, "What?"

Margo stopped suddenly (I nearly ran her over as she did so), and swiveled around to look at me through owlish, emerald eyes. She laughed again.

"I know this room. Number 184. _His _room."

"Who's room?"

"_His_ room. The _ghost's_ room."

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**KAZ SPEAKS! **Hoho, I spy - with my little eye - a cliffhanger! So now Miku discovers the possibility of a ghost in her new room! But hoe did Margo know? Hmm, only time will tell!

Frankly, I have no idea why I made Margo French. xD She just struck me as the French type, you know? Well, I'll just reveal for now that her character is a rater important one, and Margo will play a major role eventullay. Muahaha.

Also, this story lacks Deidara. I promise he shall worm his way into Chapter Three...Somehow.

Oh, I must also includ a HUGE thanks to those who had left me reviews! Kaz loves you all very, very much. Hopefully, this chapter will fetch a few more reviews (SHAMELESS HINT), and it will encourage me to write up some more. I seem to be in a writing mood this week. xD

Okay, I'll shut up now. Remeber to review! Ciao~!

P.S. "Ms. Tillie" is actually a character from a series of mystery novels that I read. If you can tell me who the series is by (or the name of one of the books), a free one-shot for you! Good luck~!


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